


A Child

by intellexual_asexual



Series: Ego Short Stories [17]
Category: Markiplier TV (Web Series), Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, but not one of those overly creepy uncles yknow, host is basically an uncle, hurghhhhhhh i am soft, im literally about to explode their friendship is adorable, no beta we die like actor mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intellexual_asexual/pseuds/intellexual_asexual
Summary: This is a shit summary but basically Host helps Eric go to sleep uwu
Relationships: Author | Host & Eric Derekson
Series: Ego Short Stories [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106381
Kudos: 21





	A Child

**Author's Note:**

> Um uh here take some fluff while I process another fic that emotionally tortures someone kjhgskfa

“The Host slinks into the kitchen, silently sliding across the hardwood floor. His intentions? To secretly eat Eric Derekson’s latest batch of cookies. The Host was never suspected of doing so the previous four times, and he has decided to test his luck again as he pries open the Iplier’s fridge.”

The Ipliers thought that Wilford Warfstache had the biggest sweet tooth out of all of them, but it was actually Host. And he demonstrates this by eating almost every single baked good he sets his eyes on. Thank God that he can narrate the extra pounds away.

Eric had made some chocolate chip cookies earlier in the day, and he always puts them in the fridge to cool down quicker. Host had narrated everyone to forget about them, and there they sat now, begging for Host to eat them.

“The Host quietly snatches the tray of cookies from the shelf, placing them on the kitchen island and closing the fridge. He is mere centimeters away from sugary heaven when he is smacked on the head with—”

Host had forgotten to make sure everyone was sound asleep before entering the kitchen, and he was so focussed on acquiring the cookies that he also forgot to narrate his surroundings. Host stumbled and clutched his head as he turned to ‘look’ at his assailant.

“O-Oh my God, H-Host, I’m… I-I’m so s-sorry!”

Eric stood with a frying pan clutched tight in his hands, a concerned and panicked expression on his face. Host stopped hissing in pain once he realized Eric was the one who caused it.

Host stood up straight and said, “The Host tells Eric Derekson that he is alright, rubbing the back of his head as the pain subsides. He knows he should not have been out here this late, and understands why Eric Derekson attacked him.”

Eric seemed to calm down some, but his eyebrows were still scrunched together as he said, “S-So you’re the o-one who’s… who’s b-been stealing my s-sweets? I-I thought i-it was Wilford o-or Yan, that’s wh-why I have th-the frying pan.”

Host smiled as Eric sat the pan on the counter behind him. “The Host enjoys Eric Derekson’s baking. So much so that he goes out of his way to eat all of them. He had never been caught until tonight.”

Host’s smile turned into more of a cheeky grin as a look of realization passed across Eric’s face. “Y-You…  _ You’re r-really the S-Sweets Snatcher?! _ ”

Host nodded and pretended to be hurt as Eric sent a round of fake punches into his arm. “Y-You could h-have j-just asked for a-a batch f-for yourself! Sneaking a-around a-at two i-in the morning i-isn’t the b-best way of t-telling me my baking i-is good!”

Eric stopped ‘punching’ Host and looked him in the 'eyes,' pouting as Host told him, “The Host is genuinely sorry for stealing Eric Derekson’s baked goods instead of simply asking for some. ...The Host wonders how long Eric Derekson has been awake.”

Host had briefly used his Sight and found that Eric had some pretty bad bags under his eyes. Host raised an eyebrow, suspicious as Eric stopped pouting and answered, “U-Uh, I was s-still… still t-trying to f-find out wh-whoever was taking m-my sweets.”

“The Host listens to Eric Derekson’s lie and raises his eyebrow further, and he inquires whether or not Eric had caught on to the Host’s sneaking pattern.”

Eric looked at Host like he thought he was stupid. Host had to snort as Eric said, “O-of course I did! My sweets w-were… were b-being taken e-every Monday n-night.”

Host’s eyebrow retreated from his hairline as he softly asked Eric, “Does Eric Derekson know that it is Thursday today?”

Host concluded that Eric did not know it was Thursday as he said, “...I-It’s Thursday?”

“The Host tells Eric again that it is Thursday.”

Eric was silent for a while, and Host heard him putting the frying pan back in the cabinet. After thinking for a bit, Host decided to break the silence. “The Host asks Eric Derekson when he last slept.”

Eric had previously been making some noise as he struggled to place the pan back on the shelf (why they stored it up so high was a mystery to Host), but it ceased at Host’s question. “...What?”

“The Host is sure that Eric Derekson heard him.”

Eric went silent for a while again, succeeding in putting the pan back, until he finally answered, “..Last F-Friday.”

If Host still had eyes, they would have widened to an impossible degree. His eyebrows were raised as he said, “Eric Derekson should be in bed. Why is he still up and about?”

Host could barely hear Eric’s sigh, and so he added, “Eric Derekson does not have to tell—”

“I’m h-having nightmares a-again.”

Host stopped short and took a deep breath. He remembered that when Eric first Arrived he was still under the care of that _ pathetic  _ excuse of a father. Host had found out through his narrations that Eric was terrified of Derek Derekson, and the poor boy would have frequent dreams about his dad and losing his family. Host would not stand for Eric going through that again.

“The Host does not like that nightmares are keeping Eric Derekson from sleeping. He knows a way to help Eric Derekson.”

Eric whipped around (too fast, apparent from the small “ouch!” he gave as his neck cracked) and asked, “You d-do?”

Host smiled and said, “The Host does not like feeling Eric Derekson in pain. The Host… the Host has Seen that he has been through things he would never wish upon anyone. Least of all someone as kind and forgiving as Eric Derekson. The Host would like to help Eric Derekson avoid more self torture. If he is willing to accept it, of course.”

Eric was quiet for another few minutes. Host patiently waited for him to make a decision. He knew that he could just narrate him to go to sleep, but Host felt like that would be violating his trust. It had taken a while to build up that trust with Eric, and Host wasn’t about to tear it all down with a few simple words.

Host heard Eric step closer to him as he said, “O-OK, Host. I… I-I would l-like your help.”

Host silently took Eric’s hand and started walking out of the kitchen. Eric laughed nervously as he asked, “U-Um, Host, wh-what a-are you… what are you g-going to d-do?”

Host turned to Eric, their hands still intertwined, and smiled as he replied, “The Host is going to read Eric Derekson to sleep.”

Eric sighed. “Host, I-I’m not a ch-child, y-you d-don’t… you don’t need to r-read me a-a bedt-time story.”

“Would Eric Derekson rather continue to have nightmares?”

Host hated to be so blunt, but he really wanted to help Eric in any way possible. And this way just happened to be treating him like he was five.

Eric never answered as they continued walking. Host never mentioned where they were going, and Eric just assumed that they were going back to his room until they walked up to Host’s office door. Eric raised an eyebrow as they walked inside, Host shutting the door quietly. 

Host let go of Eric’s hand as he said, “The Host walks to his office armchair, as several yellow and rather fluffy blankets appeared in Eric Derekson’s arms.”

Eric held his arms out, and three blankets did indeed appear in his arms. Host sat in his armchair as Eric smiled and tossed him a blanket, wrapping himself in the other two. Eric’s smile faltered when Host hummed and beckoned Eric over to him.

“H-Host, I’m not… I-I’m not sitting i-in y-your lap. I t-told you, I-I’m n-not a k-kid.”

Host grinned and raised an eyebrow. “The Host sees no other place to sit. Ah, actually,” Host mumbled a few words and the chair at his desk disappeared, “Now the Host sees no other place to sit. Unless Eric Derekson would rather have one of his siblings find them in a more… compromising position in his bed?”

Eric flushed and spluttered out, “H-Host!! Y-You… ugh, f-fine!”

Host still had a shit eating grin as Eric hesitantly made him comfortable half on top of Host. There was just enough space on the armchair for Eric not to actually be  _ sitting _ on Host, but his legs were draped across him and Eric was kind of forced to put his arms around Host. Although Eric was heavily embarrassed by this, he would suffer through it if it meant that he could sleep properly again.

Host didn’t need to see to be able to tell that Eric was still blushing heavily. “Eric Derekson does not have to sit here if he doesn’t want to. The Host was merely joking.”

Eric shook his head and said, “N-No, I’m g-good. J-Just… just b-be quick a-about it I gu-guess...”

Host softly chuckled and started his story. “Once upon a time—”

Eric groaned loudly, and Host laughed as buried his head in his shoulder and said, “H-Host!  _ I’m n-not a-a child! _ ”

Host calmed down and replied, “The Host apologizes. He will now start a proper story now.”

Eric didn’t take his head from Host’s shoulder and instead huffed as Host started whispering a more ‘ _ mature’ _ story.

“There was once a lonely prince by the name of Algernon...”

Host had barely made it halfway through his story, which he was thoroughly invested in, when he unexpectedly narrated, “The Host feels Eric Derekson’s soft breath on his neck and realizes that the boy has fallen asleep. ...The Host cannot move his legs, however he is beyond sure that he does not want to get up.”

Host adjusted the blankets on Eric and himself and rested his head on Eric’s, and he hoped Eric had sweet dreams as he drifted off to sleep.

~ ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ ~

Wilford Warfstache always bothered Host in the morning, at 7 am sharp. Well, he wouldn’t call it “bothering,” he was just saying good morning. Albeit a bit chaotically.

Wilford burst open the door to Host’s office and was about to shout something, but he froze when he saw Host and Eric cuddling and sleeping on the armchair.

“Awwwww, look at that!”

Wilford pulled out his phone and started to move closer toward the two brothers, but he froze again when he heard Host whispering. He thought they were both still asleep.

“The Host greets Wilford Warfstache as he quickly puts his phone back in his pocket.”

Wilford did exactly that, and before he could say something else Host cut him off. “Wilford Warfstache abruptly turns around and walks out of the Host’s office… stubbing his toe on the doorframe as he does so.”

Wilford let out a loud “dagnabbit!” as he walked away and stubbed his toe. He turned around when he got into the hallway and stuck his tongue out at Host. Host mumbled a few narrations and the door quickly shut, though it didn’t slam.

Wilford huffed, but his smile returned as he tried pushing open Host’s door again. It wouldn’t budge. 

Wilford tried teleporting into the office instead, but he was unable to.

“Wilford Warfstache attempts to send his phone into the Host’s office, but it shatters in his hands just as he was about to send it through the pink smoke.”

Wilford groaned and rolled his eyes when he heard Host’s quiet narrations from behind the door. “Hostie, I was just curious! Oooooh,” Wilford said as he suddenly realized something. “Is that why Sunny’s cookies were left out?”

Host didn’t reply immediately, and Wilford grinned when he said, “...The Host remembers that he forgot to put them back. He apologizes and begs Wilford Warfstache not to eat them all.”

“Too late, Hostie!!”

Wilford ran toward the kitchen, and he could just barely hear Host mutter something along the lines of “He shifts in place as Eric Derekson wakes up” as Wilford caught sight of the cookies. He shoved three in his mouth at once and left for his studio, thinking that he could set the Jims on a mission to document how soft Host actually was.

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you go shipping them romantically/sexually in the comments I WILL slurp up all of your veins like spaghetti noodles /hj.  
> As always, make sure to leave a comment if you liked this work, and don't be afraid to request another!


End file.
